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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443798">recover you (recover me)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape'>treescape</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No actual torture on screen, Pining, Self-Doubt, Torture Recovery, injured Obi-Wan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 09:15:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If he’d truly been the Chosen One, maybe Anakin could have prevented Obi-Wan’s capture in the first place.</p><p>If he’d been even a fraction as competent as he’d thought he was, he would at least have tracked Grievous to his lair.</p><p>As it was, all Anakin could say was that he was there when they finally brought Obi-Wan home—and in the end, he barely even managed that.</p><p>
  <i>Or, Obi-Wan's been captured and Anakin is not okay.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>491</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>ObiWanKenobiAnakinSkywalkermRm, Obikin Kink Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>recover you (recover me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/gifts">luckee</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This goes AU from Saleucami, where Obi-Wan is captured while facing Grievous.</p><p>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/pseuds/luckee">luckee</a>, who wanted torture recovery/intense caretaking.</p><p>50 million thanks and more to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessiete/pseuds/tessiete">tessiete</a> for the beta and for me letting me ramble about it while writing it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If he’d truly been the Chosen One, maybe Anakin could have prevented Obi-Wan’s capture in the first place.</p><p>If he’d been even a fraction as competent as he’d thought he was, he would at least have tracked Grievous to his lair.</p><p>As it was, all Anakin could say was that he was there when they finally brought Obi-Wan home—and in the end, he barely even managed that.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Anakin set course for Coruscant the moment he learned about the rescue. Three weeks of searching since Obi-Wan’s capture on Saleucami, and he’d been looking in the wrong quadrant altogether.<p><i>Kriff</i>, how could he have misjudged Grievous so badly?</p><p>In some ways, that three-day journey home was almost harder than the past three weeks put together. He ran useless coordinates again and again, he annoyed Rex half to death with pointless questions, he checked their position compulsively, but he wasn’t actually <i>doing anything</i>. The only relief came whenever Ahsoka managed to convince him to spar with her, a respite of exhaustion and movement that was enough to distract him just a little.</p><p>Aayla’s words rang in his ears without cease. “<i>He’s...alive, Skywalker.</i>”</p><p>The <i>Resolute</i> docked an hour before the <i>Liberty</i>, anchoring in a familiar crush of gravity. Ahsoka tried to convince him to wait inside the Temple, but her attempt was half-hearted at best. He couldn’t seem to stop <i>moving</i>. It was as if some part of him thought that if he just kept going—up one side of the platform and down another, over and over, nothing but Ahsoka’s worried eyes to keep him from flying apart up there in the heights of Coruscant—maybe he could make time skip a few beats.</p><p>He thought he might lose his mind if he didn’t see Obi-Wan’s face.</p><p>When Obi-Wan didn’t walk off the <i>Liberty</i>, Anakin wasn’t sure if time finally skipped those karking beats, or if it slowed to a crawl, or maybe stopped altogether in the chill of the afternoon air. Obi-Wan came out on a stretcher carried by men of the 327th, and all Anakin knew for certain was the rushing in his ears. Somewhere, distantly, he thought he felt himself squeeze Ahsoka’s trembling shoulder with fingers of flesh—to comfort her? To steady himself?—and gods, he should be <i>used</i> to this by now. Over the years, he’d seen Obi-Wan battered and bleeding and bruised. He’d seen Obi-Wan on the very threshold of death, an inch from joining the Force. Half an inch. Less.</p><p>But Anakin had never, ever seen Obi-Wan look so still—not in sleep, not in meditation, not even in a healing trance. As a child, he had marvelled at Obi-Wan’s ability to be motionless for hours. He had alternately admired it and resented it and taken refuge in it.</p><p>This was different. This was something devoid of the elegance and the vitality of Obi-Wan’s habitual composure. This was coldness and pallor and demise, and <i>still</i> it was all that three days in the care of Aayla’s medical troopers had managed to give back to Obi-Wan.</p><p>To give back to <i>Anakin</i>.</p><p>He moved forward sharply, almost mechanically, and then jerked to a stop as if his body couldn’t decide what to do now that Obi-Wan was here. There were bruises on Obi-Wan’s face, and a jagged gash along one cheek, but they were disconcerting in their ordinariness. There was nothing Anakin could see to physically account for that infernal stillness. One of Obi-Wan’s hands hung over the side of the stretcher, and Anakin’s eyes clung to its rhythmic swing as if it were proof of life.</p><p>“He’s alive,” Ahsoka whispered beside him, and he grasped at the sound of her voice because she was right. He could feel Obi-Wan in the Force, his presence flimsi-thin but <i>there</i>. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost pretend that Obi-Wan was simply at a distance, that he was healthy and hale.</p><p>That he wasn’t this anaemic wraith.</p><p>It hit Anakin, very suddenly, that somewhere deep within he had expected Obi-Wan to stride down the ramp. His movements should have been as graceful and precise as ever, his hair and his robes perfectly in place. He should have been the way he always existed in Anakin’s mind. It felt like a betrayal for Anakin to allow Obi-Wan to be seen like <i>this</i>, so vulnerable and so…</p><p>So mortal.</p><p>“Master?”</p><p>Anakin could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on him as surely as he could hear the uncertainty in her voice. He watched as the stretcher passed, stopped himself from reaching out to brush his own hand against Obi-Wan’s, and looked down at Ahsoka’s upturned face.</p><p>“He’ll be fine.” Anakin put every ounce of faith he could summon into those words, every confidence of every child who knew that their hero was incapable of death. “It’s Obi-Wan.”</p><p>But Anakin could tell that his words didn’t convince Ahsoka, and they certainly didn’t convince him.</p><p>It was Obi-Wan.</p><p>Force, what would Anakin ever do without him?</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>The healers settled Obi-Wan’s unconscious body in the Halls of Healing, and Anakin braced himself to refuse to leave. Obi-Wan had always said he was as stubborn as a bantha, and Anakin was more than willing to prove it.<p>Vokara Che took one look at him, opened her mouth to say something, and then paused. Anakin wondered fleetingly what she saw on his face; somehow, he didn’t think it was resolve. Devastation, maybe. He didn’t bother to follow the thought through, too busy trying to glimpse Obi-Wan through the other three healers gathered around him.</p><p>“Don’t get in the way,” was all Vokara finally said. Her voice held concern and a strange sort of gentleness.</p><p>Anakin managed to nod, and tucked himself and Ahsoka away into an unobtrusive corner where he could stand, clinging, to the light of Obi-Wan’s flickering life force. He had fought so hard to become a Jedi, to become someone who wasn’t powerless, and yet here he was. Anakin seemed destined for helplessness. It burned through his veins, desperate. Vicious.</p><p>Obi-Wan wouldn’t want him to let it leave scars, but he didn’t know how to do that.</p><p>Eventually he caught Ahsoka trying to hide her yawns behind a clenched jaw and sent her to eat and rest. Perhaps he should have done that from the start, but he’d understood her compulsion to stay. He knew what it was to wait alone in the dark for news you were scared would come. He should go with her, he knew, but he’d never claimed to be a fit Master.</p><p>Later, when the healers had done what they could for the moment, Anakin finally sat. He didn’t care so much about the sitting itself; he’d stand for days if he had to. But it put him more on a level with Obi-Wan, kept him close within physical reach, and for that he was grateful.</p><p>Framed by the clean lines of the bed, Anakin could see Obi-Wan more clearly, now. The cut on his face, which had seemed innocuous enough before, now looked too stark. His wrists and hands were dusted with bruises, and his neck was purple and raw.</p><p>“Recovery will have to be slow, especially in the beginning,” Vokara told him once the other healers had left. “There was a great deal of nerve damage, we think, and for the time being he would be unable to tell us if we cause more harm than good.”</p><p>That explained almost too much. Nerve disruptors were—</p><p>Anakin didn’t want to think about what they could do. Not to anyone, and certainly not to Obi-Wan.</p><p>“When will he wake up?” A useless question, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from asking all the same.</p><p>A pause, and then, firmly, “He’ll wake when he wakes.” Her lekku shifted restlessly against her back, and Anakin wondered how carefully she had weighed that <i>when</i> against an <i>if</i>.</p><p>“What can I do?”</p><p>“For now,” she said carefully, “I suspect you can take care of yourself and that Padawan of yours for him.”</p><p>And then she was gone, and Anakin was alone but for a Master he could do nothing to save.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s chest rose, and fell, and rose again, a continual rhythm of life amidst the stillness.</p><p>“Don’t you dare, Master,” Anakin said. He refused to look away, forced his eyes to measure and count each breath. “Please.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Time passed, as time did, though he couldn’t say how much of it. Obi-Wan always seemed to know what time it was. Anakin had thought it was magic, as a child, or else something grounded entirely in the Force. Even learning that Obi-Wan just really was that aware of the world around him hadn’t made it less incredible. It made it worse to see him like this. If Obi-Wan had been in a proper healing trance, that would at least have felt more natural. This unconsciousness, this lack of awareness, was so entirely out of his control.<p>He touched Obi-Wan’s hand with his own, letting his fingers trace carefully over the stretch of knuckles. Would Obi-Wan even be able to feel it, if he were awake? Anakin had to believe any nerve damage wasn’t that bad, so he gently but determinedly curled their hands together, swept his thumb over the tracery of veins at Obi-Wan’s wrist. He tried to find calm—true calm, and not simply numbness—and let it envelope them in the Force.</p><p>Anakin told himself it wasn’t just his imagination that he felt Obi-Wan’s presence a little more strongly.</p><p>Ahsoka eventually returned, and Anakin realized nighttime must have come and gone. She didn’t look quite as rested as he might have liked, but judging by her eyes, she’d gotten a few hours of sleep at the least.</p><p>“You should sleep too, Master,” she said quietly once she had settled herself into a chair. She balanced lightly on the edge, her hands braced on her knees as she watched him.</p><p>“He might wake up.”</p><p>“I’ll stay with him. I’m not tired, Master, really. I haven’t been up all night like <i>you</i> have.” There was something of a rebuke in her voice, and normally he would argue just for the sake of arguing, but he didn’t have the energy to pretend to debate semantics. <i>Well, you still</i> look <i>tired</i>, he might have said another time, or <i>technically, I’ve been up all day</i> and <i>night</i>. Or there was the truest one, <i>it’s not like I could sleep, anyway</i>.</p><p>“I’m fine, Ahsoka,” he said, and hoped she’d leave it alone.</p><p>But she knew him too well, by now. She knew just where to press. “You know Master Obi-Wan would want you to.” And then, softer, in a way he knew wasn’t calculated at all, “I care about him too, you know.”</p><p>It’s not the same, he wanted to tell her. <i>To you, he’s your Master’s Master. A mentor. Sometimes even a friend. To me…</i></p><p>Gods, to Anakin he was everything. He was things Anakin had no right to consider him to be, things Obi-Wan would be astonished and maybe even appalled to learn. He was light, and life, and desire, and peace.</p><p>But to say such things would be to diminish Ahsoka’s pain and grief, and he couldn’t do it.</p><p>Anakin scrubbed both hands against his face, felt metal and flesh in a roughness all at once. It felt good. It felt <i>real</i>, harsh in a way he could hold on to.</p><p>He could taste his own exhaustion, sour and gritty and stale. He wanted, selfishly, for his face to be the first thing Obi-Wan saw when he woke up, but perhaps it shouldn’t be the face he was sporting now. The pinch in Ahsoka’s brow and the droop of her montrals was enough to tell him how bad he looked.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”</p><p>“Not for at least six, please,” Vokara’s voice said from the doorway.</p><p>Anakin shook his head in response, but he looked at Ahsoka as he did so and tried to send an impression of confidence through their training bond. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her with Obi-Wan. “A couple of hours.”</p><p>He thought Ahsoka understood.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>After he’d showered and eaten enough to keep his body going, Anakin thought about returning to the Halls of Healing. He glanced at the chrono; he’d been gone for twenty-five minutes. He could be back at Obi-Wan’s side in another ten, if he moved quickly enough.<p>In the end, he didn’t. As much as he needed to feel like he was <i>doing something</i>, even if it was just keeping watch, he knew Ahsoka needed the same.</p><p>Surely he could sleep an hour, for her sake. At the least, he could try. Alone in his quarters, Anakin closed his eyes on the slow light of morning—</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>—and opened them on darkness and pain.<p>Lights blazed suddenly, green, blue, blue, green, but he couldn’t raise a hand to shield his eyes. He felt contempt and an odd, burning sort of pity for the creature he sensed before him. It was the pity that made Anakin realize he wasn’t truly Anakin, but Obi-Wan.</p><p>He was dreaming, but it couldn’t be real, because Obi-Wan was here—</p><p>—<i>not here</i>—</p><p>—somewhere—</p><p>—in the Temple. </p><p>Obi-Wan might still be in pain, if he could feel at all, but he wasn’t in darkness anymore. Anakin had found him—</p><p>—<i>had lost him</i>—</p><p>—<i>Aayla</i> had found him.</p><p>There was softness and warmth and a slow spreading calm that lingered between particles of light. Anakin was—</p><p>—here? Gone.</p><p>He opened his eyes against the blazing of light and—</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><p>The chrono told him seventy-five minutes had passed. Anakin took his time dressing, and managed to stretch it out another three. Tunics, layered. Boots, stamped on. Robes, like armour.</p><p>His lightsaber at his belt.</p><p>Ahsoka gave no rebuke when he returned to Obi-Wan’s room in the Halls of Healing. He truly had been gone for almost two hours.</p><p>He’d done his best.</p><p>He hoped she knew that.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Hours passed, as hours did, and Anakin sat and watched.<div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Obi-Wan woke early that same afternoon. It began with a flicker of eyelids, a movement so slight that Anakin might almost have missed it.<p>(That was a lie. He was too focused on Obi-Wan to miss anything.)</p><p>Anakin held his breath for slow, endless seconds until Obi-Wan’s eyes finally opened. That first sliver of blue was like the first time he’d seen space––beautiful and vast and overwhelming.</p><p>“Have you slept at all?” Obi-Wan’s voice rasped after a minute or an hour or a lifetime, and Anakin almost had to close his eyes against how typical that was.</p><p>Before Anakin could begin to respond, there was a movement at his shoulder. “He did, Master Obi-Wan. I promise.” He didn’t need to see the look Ahsoka sent him to know that it very clearly said he owed her one. He felt a faint flash of indignation. It wasn’t like she was lying for him.</p><p>He <i>had</i> slept. A little.</p><p>“Thank you, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered closed, and Anakin thought his own heart had stopped until those lashes lifted again. The black of Obi-Wan’s pupils, blown too wide, struggled to fix themselves on Anakin. “You look awful.”</p><p>“Speak for yourself.” Anakin reached out, unthinking, to skate the pads of his fingers over the curve of Obi-Wan’s thumb.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s hand shifted, unsteadily but somehow naturally, towards his.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Obi-Wan’s recovery <i>was</i> slow, as Vokara had indicated it would be, even if it might have been miraculous by non-Jedi standards. The healers seemed concerned about moving too quickly, afraid they would miss something, so he was in and out of healing trances over the next several days. Anakin felt like he was looking over his shoulder the entire time, waiting to be sent off on another mission, but a summons to the Council Chamber never came. When Yoda and Depa and Mace visited, they always surveyed him for a time and then let him be.<p>“His presence helps,” he heard one of the healers say quietly in response to something Mace had asked, but he dismissed it out of hand</p><p>When Obi-Wan was awake, he was in pain. Vokara assured Anakin that the pain was a good sign, that it meant damaged nerves were regenerating, but it was difficult to keep that in perspective, especially when Obi-Wan seemed to be expending precious energy trying to hide it. Anakin might have shaken him for that, if Obi-Wan didn’t look so frail, though it wasn’t like it would have helped anyway.</p><p>During the day, Anakin tried to distract him, but he felt at a loss. He talked, he tried to coerce Obi-Wan to eat, he even read aloud—from books and not from incoming mission reports, at least until Obi-Wan threatened to find his own datapad for himself—but he knew he wasn’t good at taking care of people. He never seemed to know exactly what to say, or what to do, or how to make it better. He was ashamed that in some ways, he wanted his Master to take care of <i>him</i>, to curl up next to Obi-Wan’s healing body and just be held.</p><p>At night…</p><p>At night, Obi-Wan made him leave, and that was worse. If Obi-Wan had to be in pain, the least Anakin could do was <i>be there</i>. It wasn’t like he was able to get much sleep in his own quarters, anyway, and when he did it didn’t do a whole lot of good. Obi-Wan didn’t speak of the past several weeks, but Anakin imagined them plenty in his dreams. In the end, he only ever left so that Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to find the extra breath to argue with. It never seemed to matter if Anakin crossed his arms and simply refused to go; Obi-Wan just kept pushing and pushing.</p><p>It didn’t appear that Obi-Wan was sleeping particularly well, either, but that did the opposite of help. Even as his healing progressed and his pain began to diminish, Obi-Wan’s eyes remained sunken with fatigue. Anakin could feel echoes of a dull, familiar ache in the air around him, and that was worrisome, because Obi-Wan only got headaches when he had reached the end of even <i>his</i> tolerance for exhaustion.</p><p>Obi-Wan never had liked the Halls of Healing, and Anakin certainly couldn’t blame him; time spent there was simply a fact of life for many Jedi, but it could begin to burn away at one’s equanimity.</p><p>Even Obi-Wan’s.</p><p>“Let me take him back to his quarters,” he asked Vokara after a week. Anakin knew he wasn’t the negotiator that Obi-Wan was, but he poured every ounce of persuasion he could summon into his voice. “Just at night. He’ll sleep better there, I know he will. Won’t that help with the healing?”</p><p>Vokara’s lips pressed into a line, but she barely hesitated before acquiescing.</p><p>It only confirmed every suspicion Anakin had about how badly Obi-Wan had been sleeping.</p><p>At least this was something Anakin could do.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>Something about seeing Obi-Wan back in his own quarters, ensconced in his own bed, eased something in Anakin’s chest. Obi-Wan already seemed to be resting a little easier, with no one but Anakin to break his privacy. His face didn’t seem to look so white against his own pillows.<p>For a moment, Anakin wavered between sleeping in his old room and curling up on Obi-Wan’s couch. The former would entail finding clean bedding, so he supposed it would have to be the couch. What he <i>really</i> wanted to do was just pull up a chair in Obi-Wan’s room and forego sleep altogether.</p><p>No, what he really wanted to do was…</p><p>“There’s more than enough room for two, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said tiredly from where he lay, curled on one side, on the expanse of his own sheets.</p><p>Anakin felt a little more of the tension leave his limbs, and moved before Obi-Wan could change his mind. He folded himself around Obi-Wan’s body, one arm slung over his waist. It occurred to him that probably he should keep to one side of the bed, let Obi-Wan sleep unencumbered, but Obi-Wan relaxed back against him.</p><p>Anakin drifted to sleep with the press of Obi-Wan’s hair against his cheek and his scent all around, the beat of two hearts slowly synchronizing in time.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>It was a familiar dream, but it was a good one, so Anakin let himself sink further into it. Obi-Wan’s hands framed his face, fingers branding his cheeks with the softness of warm skin. There was weight anchoring him to the mattress, Obi-Wan’s body against his; the press of Obi-Wan’s hips, the tangle of his legs, the stretch of his shoulders above Anakin’s body…<p>Force, Anakin would gladly drown in it.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s mouth was delirious against his, ablaze with promise and want all at once. It was soft, and slow, and Anakin felt almost mad with it. It was somehow surfeit and famine. He didn’t know how to possibly get enough.</p><p>He let his teeth catch against Obi-Wan’s lower lip, swept deeper inside with his tongue. His hips ground up, his fingers clasped around Obi-Wan’s forearms, and—</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div>He woke, aching and hard, against Obi-Wan’s back. There was no point trying to hide it; he could sense right away that Obi-Wan wasn’t asleep. Shame burned through him, not at a hunger that was nothing new, but that he could feel it <i>now</i>, when Obi-Wan lay exhausted and worn in the circle of his arms.<p>Anakin shifted his hips back and went to draw his arm from around Obi-Wan’s waist, but Obi-Wan’s fingers curled loosely about his wrist.</p><p>“It’s fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. His voice sounded like he’d only recently woken. “It’s a natural physical response.”</p><p>It was an easy out. All Anakin had to do was nod and fall back asleep; that last wasn’t quite as difficult when Obi-Wan was near.</p><p>But Anakin felt frayed and thin. He didn’t know if he could find the energy to be disingenuous, especially not with Obi-Wan, and somehow he thought he owed Obi-Wan the truth right now.</p><p>“It’s not,” he said. He had thought it might feel like the words were being pulled out of him, but they were surprisingly easy to say. “Just that, I mean. I always want you.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s fingers tightened slightly around his wrist. Anakin wondered if his arm would be pushed away now, but Obi-Wan just held him there. After a moment, he felt Obi-Wan’s thumb rub against the soft underside of his wrist, and he fought not to shiver.</p><p>“I hadn’t thought that possible,” Obi-Wan said, “especially not now, after I have failed so entirely.”</p><p>“<i>Failed?</i>” Anakin choked. “By what, being <i>captured</i>?” Obi-Wan didn’t reply, which was really all the response Anakin needed. “You didn’t fail. You survived. And even if you had, it wouldn’t matter. I’m the one who…”</p><p>Silence. Anakin felt like he couldn’t find the air to speak.</p><p>“Who what?” Obi-Wan’s thumb rubbed again, circled lightly.</p><p>“I’m the one who couldn’t find you. I’m the one who doesn’t know how to take care of you.”</p><p>“You’ve always taken care of me,” Obi-Wan said. “Since you were a child, your very presence has kept the darkness at bay.”</p><p>He didn’t know how to process that, didn’t know how to even begin to argue against the conviction and the certainty in Obi-Wan’s voice. It was easier to just forge ahead. “Well, I don’t know what to do now.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s fingers loosened around his wrist, and then the palm of his hand pressed flat against Anakin’s fingers, holding them in place against his stomach. “You’re already doing it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I'm <a href="https://treescape.tumblr.com/">treescape</a> on tumblr.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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